falling down to earth
by sillyangelxo
Summary: •ONESHOT• RyoSaku. Because it hurts seeing Ryoma everywhere she goes when everyone knows he’s dead.


**Summary:** [RyoSaku] Because it hurts seeing Ryoma everywhere she goes when everyone knows he's dead.

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimers applied; anything recognized within the text doesn't belong to me.

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**| falling down to earth |**

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Shredding paper was like a somewhat comforting—

(heartbreaking. _terrifying_. **nerve wracking**.)

—panacea for Sakuno Ryuzaki.

After all, those memories were unbearable.

And now, sitting on that leather couch as the shredder resided to make loud, gruesome noises with the paper inserted into its compartment, it was hard for her to keep the tears in, blurring her vision and stinging her eyes…

God, just _thinking_ of it made her mind go crazy: those white, blank, blank walls practically _glaring at her_ while she sat on a chair beside the crucially injured Ryoma, making her feel so claustrophobic as they seem to enclose around her, closer and closer and _closer_ as they went—

It killed her.

And that foul _smell_. It was potent and filled the air with antiseptic, wrapping around her body like a snake who had found its prey, divulging her of any safety as she semiconsciously hyperventilated at the invisible bacteria lingering amongst the air…toying, mocking, scaring her, because being in a hospital was truly frightening; Sakuno felt uneasy and she couldn't breathe because it was like suffocation by the entrance of contamination through her lungs, engulfing her and making her feel so sick to her stomach.

Then, she could remember, standing there in that very room above Ryoma's resting form, drowning in her sorrow, watching, staring, gazing. Hoping for something, _anything_, that would happen. Because god, waiting and wishing and hoping and crying had done no good, as she was told again and again and_ again_…

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

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(_"Everything's going to be okay."_)

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But in the end…

They were all a bunch of _**liars**_.

She wanted to point; place the blame on someone's shoulders so she'd have a reason to be angry, to yell and scream and kick and cry, cry, cry and just _let it all out_.

Liar,

liar,

liar, _liarliarliar—_

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(but somehow she knew, standing in front of that mirror dolled up in black, she was the biggest liar of them all.)

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_Why, why, why?_

It was not fair, Sakuno kept telling herself as liquid brimmed her blurry vision that day. It wasn't fair, having him — _Ryoma_, of all people — to…to—but Sakuno wouldn't let those words slip out of her mouth. Instead, her form hovered above the cold, lifeless body of her husband, her thumb brushing against his icy flesh, scratched and bruised and tainted…god, she thought she was crazy. Because even through the tears, her brain distinguished his incongruous face and she couldn't help but think how beautiful Ryoma had looked.

(Because damnit, if she was going to cry and be depressed, her husband was going to be beautiful in her eyes for all she cared.)

Sakuno _hated _this. The matter was an aspect of contradiction. It was difficult, staying in the hospital for the longest of hours, watching someone slowly _dying_ inside. And she knew it, deep, deep down that Ryoma's life was receding slowly, gradually…painfully. Yet you want to keep hoping and praying and _waiting for a miracle_, but you're breaking inside too as the days dwindle by and you've been crying for _ages_.

(puffy-eyed, dispirited, _sad_.)

It was a form of hurt that everybody must experience throughout their lives.

But the reality of the matter presenting itself before you at hand was unbelievable, because…

The pain was overwhelming.

**(weird, unusual, excruciating, hurtful, bad and—)**

And Sakuno…_she just couldn't take it_.

The memories were too painful to reminisce on when the person you wanted to spend your whole life with was _gone_. It's like an arrow literally shot through your already broken heart, completing shattering it into millions of tiny pieces…it's the feeling of a person's heart surging open with something so unfamiliar and alien to them and it _hurts so bad_ and the tears hurt so much and you're choking on the sobs, stammering incomprehensible words that just escape you're mouth and you have no idea what you're thinking because the truth of the matter is, _you have no idea_ how _to deal with_ this.

And when you get to think about it, you can't believe it. Because one day they're here and then—poof. It's empty. You know it is, but you can't put your finger on it because you're familiar with being full; remembering the kisses and hugs and tennis victories and you're wedding night…his arms draped around you and pulling you close, so close that you take in his scent and it feels so good and right the way he secures you in his arms, soft whispers of _"I love you, Sakuno"_ mumbled into your ear as you're swaying to your wedding song…

* * *

**I'll be** _your_ crying shoulder  
I'll be love **s u i c i d e  
**I'll be better when I'm older  
I'll be the greatest fan of **y o u r** _life—_

* * *

But then reality smacks you straight in the face and you're worn down, and it's the fact of seeing him everywhere is what hurts the most.

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(he's smiling, smirking, laughing at _you_ and it **stings** because your last glimpse of him was being beautiful in such a cruel way, lying in that coffin, dead, dead, _dead—_)

_-_

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That's why shredding paper was comforting.

Sakuno wanted to erase any sort of memorabilia of Ryoma left in her house. And now, the house was stripped of it's beauty of diplomas, documents, pictures…anything that _reminded_ her of Ryoma and was reduced to those ugly, blank, blank walls of that of the hospital. But seeing nothing was better than seeing what had been, what could've been, and what would never be.

Because it just hurt like hell and Sakuno didn't want the pain that had built up in that dark part of her heart.

So now, as she took one more look of that picture of Ryoma in all of his patch-eyed glory and the genuine smile donning her lips on that victorious day at Kawamura's sushi bar, the liquid throbbing at her eyes as she muffled a choke that had hitched up in her throat. Then, for the last time, Sakuno watched as she slipped the picture into the shredding compartment.

(_vrrrrrrrrrrrrrhh…_)

Compared to listening to their wedding song, or thinking of his voice, or even the funeral music that played at the viewing, this was the saddest sound to hear: the destruction of _their_ valuables.

Why she continued to shred her mementos away, even if it had hurt _just_ as much, Sakuno didn't really know.

But the way she had thought of it in her somber state of mind, it had made sense.

Because after all,

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'_Whatever stops the tears at night.'_

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**|sa katapusan |**

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**a/n:** I wanted to try some angst and see if you guys would like it. ;) Review please!


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